


vetiti stellas

by allechant



Series: inamorata [2]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25085260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allechant/pseuds/allechant
Summary: she danced together with the stars of his universe, impossible to reach, impossible to love.
Relationships: Hatsune Miku/Kagamine Len
Series: inamorata [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833109
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

When the doorbell rang at ten in the morning, Len suddenly felt a terrible, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He discovered why when he answered the door and saw a grinning girl with bright green eyes and a huge duffel bag standing on his doorstep. He squashed the instinctive urge to slam the door shut. “What the hell are you doing here, Miku?”

The last thing he needed was a distraction. And that was what Hatsune Miku was – the most terrible, awful distraction in the world. He was supposed to be working on his thesis, and he needed his quiet. Miku was the very opposite of quiet.

“My landlord kicked me out! Though that’s probably not a surprise to you,” Miku chirped. He had to wonder if she had somehow planned to be evicted from her flat – she seemed much too cheerful about this. “He didn’t believe me when I said I would pay the rent next week, so here I am, looking for a new place to stay!”

“Let me guess. You were a month behind on your rent,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. His eyebrow twitched, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache setting in.

“Three, actually! But that’s not important,” she giggled. He just stared at her, wondering how anyone could be so utterly irresponsible. _Not important_? “After I got kicked out I thought for a while and figured you’d be my best shot. You have a spare room, don’t you?”

She blinked up at him from underneath long eyelashes, clasping her hands in front of her. When she leant forward her shirt fell open slightly and he had to avert his gaze, warmth rising to his cheeks at that glimpse of cleavage. Dammit. She was doing this on purpose. Well, it was going to take a lot more than some exposed skin to change his mind.

“And what makes you think I’m going to let you waltz into my apartment and stay here for free?” he deadpanned, tempted to close the door and go back to sleep. He was tired still, having spent most of the night poring over the results of his latest experiment.

Her smile faltered. “You’re not going to take me in?” she asked, her voice filled with betrayal. He was unmoved, all too aware that this was nothing but an act. Hatsune Miku wasn’t the kind to be deterred by setbacks. She saw his lack of response and sighed, wiping the pout off her face. “Hm, if that’s the case…I guess I should talk to Rei. He’ll probably let me stay with him.”

She turned around, the duffel bag still slung over her shoulder, but his hand shot out and grabbed her elbow before she could leave. “No, you can stay here.” The words tumbled out before he even knew what he was saying, and he scowled, hating how he gave in so easily.

They both knew that she had him wrapped around her little finger. He couldn’t help it. His sense of responsibility simply didn’t allow him to ignore her predicament.

It wasn’t that he distrusted Rei. Rei was a mutual friend, a good friend, and he would never lay a hand on Miku. But Len felt uncomfortable at the thought of her sleeping at someone else’s house. Not when he knew all her nasty habits. It wasn’t that he changed his mind about her. He just didn’t want their friend to be inconvenienced.

Miku gave him a dazzling smile, about to open her mouth, but he interjected. “You can stay with me, but the moment you try anything funny I’m kicking you out. And you’d better find another place to stay once your pay comes in.”

She nodded, so he stood aside and allowed her into his house, pointing the way to the guest room. He reminded himself that the guest room was vacant _anyway_ so he might as well take her in. He would be making full use of the resources he had on hand.

And if he didn’t keep an eye on her, who knew what kind of trouble she would get into? He was doing everyone a service by keeping her indoors.

She studied her surroundings, looking around his tidy apartment, and he made sure to stay close – he’d have to conduct regular checks to ensure she didn’t swipe his belongings. Miku had yet to kick her habit of stealing things.

“Thanks, Len. You’re the best!” she exclaimed, throwing open the door of the guest room – with a casual wave, she shut the door in his face and he sighed, shaking his head. The bad feeling in his gut lingered, and he found himself dreading the future that awaited him.

* * *

Kagamine Len and Hatsune Miku were childhood friends, though admittedly calling them _friends_ might be a bit of a stretch.

Perhaps it was more accurate to say that Len tolerated her presence. They used to live in the same neighbourhood, and they even went to the same schools growing up.

But when they graduated from high school, Miku went to some faraway art college and they lost touch for a few years. One day she returned to town, and now she lived free and easy, earning money through freelance work and commissions. She occasionally supplemented her income with petty theft, a habit she had picked up from her criminal father.

Len sometimes wondered why he even put up with her. They were complete opposites – she was a loose cannon, impulsive and dreamy, doing whatever she wanted, while he was of the firm belief that she could use a little more logic and restraint in her decision-making.

Miku called him boring because of that. But better a reliable bore than a swindler – Miku had only been able to survive this long because of her looks, which helped her to seduce gullible idiots and run away with their money.

It was a miracle that she had yet to be thrown in jail. Len sighed, twirling his pen around his fingers. The words on the page refused to cooperate today, and he was pretty sure he had read this sentence a few times already.

Last night, Miku left his house and she hadn't been back since. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was a little concerned about her. She could look after herself, he knew that, but that didn't stop him from wondering where she had gone and what she was doing. His curiosity was making him restless.

Then he heard the sound of the front door opening, and he immediately shot out of his study, glaring at the girl who was now shrugging off her coat, whistling merrily to herself. “Where did you go?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “My apartment isn't a hotel, you know. You can't just waltz in and out as you please.”

“Oh, I went to meet a friend,” she said, removing her boots and tossing them in a corner. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold air outside; some part of him thought about how pretty she was, her eyes bright and her cheeks tinged pink, but he would never say that to her. “And does it matter where I go? You’re not my father.”

He hesitated. She wasn't wrong. He wasn't supposed to care – she was nothing more than a tenant, someone he allowed to leech off him because she had nowhere else to stay and he didn't want her to cause trouble for others.

But he worried about her anyway. “What did you buy?” He changed the topic, an attempt to defuse the tension.

Miku looked down at the shopping bag she had left on the floor. “Oh, this?” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “That's a secret, so I'm not going to tell you.”

Her lilting voice did something strange to his insides, but he ignored the feeling – it meant _nothing_ – and scowled at her. “You're living in my house now,” he reminded her, ”so I think I have a right to know what you're bringing in here. Given your track record, it’s probably something illegal.”

He glared at the plain paper bag. It looked completely ordinary, but he had dealt with Miku enough times to know appearances were never what they seemed with her. She giggled and turned away, picking up the paper bag as she shook her head.

“You should stop being so paranoid, Len,” she said, walking out from the hallway and dropping her purse on the sofa. She had only been here for a week but she was already acting like she owned the place. He considered telling her to respect his boundaries, but he quickly dropped the idea – she wouldn't listen to him anyway. “But I can assure you that there's nothing dangerous in this bag…well, at least not in the conventional sense.”

He wanted to interrogate her further because having danger in _any_ sense at all was not something he wanted to deal with. But before he could say a word, she suddenly reached up on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek – she ran off before he could react, heading to the guest room and closing the door. It took a while before his brain kicked back into gear.

Hatsune Miku would be the death of him. It had only been a week, but he was already losing his mind. If only she could move out and leave him in peace once more – yet his fingers drifted to his cheek, and he could still feel the imprint of her lips on his skin.

* * *

It had been a crap week. Len had already decided that the first thing he would do when he got home was to throw off his shoes, slump onto the sofa, and put on the first stupid, shitty comedy he could find. Hopefully with a tub of ice cream in his lap, though this assumed that the she-devil haunting his house hadn’t inhaled all the ice cream in the fridge.

He sure as hell deserved this. First, his professor had given him a whole bunch of feedback for his thesis, and while he appreciated it, that meant a few more weeks of late-night study and research – and he wasn’t even near halfway done. Then he had to help his professor grade the mid-term papers for his university module, and following that he had to prep for the board meeting next month, where he was supposed to present his research…

Yeah, everything went back to his research. He growled, annoyed at himself – why couldn’t he just make some kind of breakthrough in his dreams or something? He was sure that he would have made _way_ more progress if it weren’t for his unwanted housemate – Miku didn’t seem to have any concept of an inside voice, and no matter how often he told her that he was _busy_ , she just didn’t seem to understand.

Though it was more likely she was perfectly aware and she just didn’t care. That seemed like an entirely Miku thing to do. He thought about the papers he had yet to start grading and his eyebrow twitched. It was going to be another long night, but he was exhausted and sick of work, and all he wanted to do now was to unwind in front of his TV.

Sometimes, he questioned his younger self’s decision to pursue academia. He knew he was interested in research and he _did_ enjoy reading other people's work. But at times like this, he thought about how much easier life would have been if he had just gone to work in an agency instead, as most of his classmates did.

At least his pay was decent enough that he could afford to rent this apartment. Being a relatively private person, he hadn’t wanted to share his personal space with a housemate, which was ridiculous given the situation he had landed himself in.

Speaking of said situation, he thought he could hear familiar laughter floating over from his room. At first, he thought he had to be imagining things, but then the longer he waited the more irritated he became and finally, he decided to investigate what exactly she was doing _in his room_. Trying to steal something? It wasn’t like he had anything of value in his…

His thoughts trailed off when he opened the door and saw her falling onto his bed, her long hair tumbling all around her face, her eyes wide, chest heaving. Her cheeks were flushed, and it appeared that she was having fun bouncing on his bed, but this wasn’t the reason that he momentarily forgot how to speak – his gaze settled on the thin straps of her short, silky black nightie, on the way it left so _little_ to the imagination, exposing practically every inch of her fair skin. He swallowed, and his throat was dry. “What are you doing?”

It was a miracle that his words didn’t come out sounding half-strangled. Miku brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and her fingers smoothed down a few errant wisps. Her hair looked so smooth, and he was suddenly tempted to run his hands through those silky locks.

Her smile was the kind of smile that wrapped itself around his heart, its winding tendrils robbing him of air. The kind of smile that reminded him of how pathetic he was when he found himself defenceless in the face of her brilliance. He had always known that she was stunning, that most men would give up – _had_ given up – everything for just one night with her. He knew that the fleeting touches and tender whispers she granted held no meaning for her; they were nothing more than a means to an end. He was painfully aware of that.

But then, why did he hope that for once he could see a glimmer of something genuine in those beautiful green eyes?

“You asked me last week what I bought, remember?” She shrugged, the nightie fluttering as she moved. He tried not to stare at her, tried to look _anywhere_ but at the girl reclining on his bed. “I told you it wasn’t dangerous. Today I decided to prove to you that I wasn’t lying.”

He almost let out a whimper, but he bit his lip and managed to hold it in. Now was a bad time to be thinking about the fantasies that popped up in his mind every once in a while, the thoughts that had him jerking awake in the middle of the night, her name falling from his lips. He had no intention of dreaming about her. But she had invaded his unconscious mind the same way she barged into everything else. Unwanted and uninvited.

His fingers clenched into fists by his sides. Maybe this was just another dream; maybe if he pinched himself he would wake up and he would be alone in the darkness once more, cold sweat rolling down his forehead, suffocating need pulsing through his veins.

“Get _out_ of my room,” he managed to spit, and he was glad that his voice didn’t tremble.

Miku pouted, getting off his bed, and he could see the soft curve of her breasts through the semi-sheer nightie. He swallowed again. There was a lump in his throat. “You don’t want me to leave,” she whispered, reaching for him – her hands wrapped around his and he stilled, his breath freezing in his lungs. His mind whispered a warning, about how her sunny disposition was nothing more than an act, that she was probably one of the most cunning people he knew – but the flaws in her personality made her so much more human.

So much more touchable, reachable, _real_. He hated the way she could dissect his mind with little more than a smile and a whisper. He hated his unexplainable feelings for a girl who enjoyed playing with the emotions of others, who toyed with her prey like a bored cat, leaving her victims half-dead for no reason other than curiosity. Nothing made sense when it came to her. And she was perfectly aware of his feelings; she knew how to tap into them so that he could never turn her down when she came to him, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking, so don’t pretend that you do.” They both knew it was a lie, but this was the only way he could hope to retain some modicum of control over this bizarre situation. She continued to stand there, gazing up at him in that erotic little dress, practised innocence in her eyes – he knew she was simply faking it, that she was nowhere as pure as she pretended to be, but he was touched by her anyway. “You have to leave.”

“You’d miss me though.” She suddenly let go of him, and he noticed just how warm, how soft her hands had been – the air felt cold in her absence. Disappointment pricked at his heart, a bitter reminder of the distance between them, but he told himself that she was never meant to be his anyway. That he had suppressed these feelings, hidden them behind the façade of irritation because it was so much easier to leave these unjustifiable, unexplainable emotions deep within the protective barrier that was rational thought.

Miku was only in here because she wanted something out of him. There could be no other reason for it. He had heard of her escapades one too many times to believe that it could be anything else. “You think too highly of yourself. Just tell me what you want this time, Miku.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” she asked, cocking her head. “You’re hot. I’m hot. It makes sense for us to be together, don’t you think?” she continued, her voice sweet as honey.

He hesitated. Did she…like him? Just a little? Enough that she wanted to sleep with him? He couldn’t tell. His heart was pounding in his chest, loud, distracting – she wore a faint smile on her lips, and he wondered if she could hear him thinking.

It had been too long since he was last with someone. Anyone paled in comparison to her, this exquisite girl he could never have. Hatsune Miku, the girl he didn’t _want_ to have because he knew she would whisper sweet nothings while holding the tip of a knife against his back. She couldn’t be trusted when it came to feelings. And that made his heart ache.

“Oh, by the way, I brought these.” She reached around and brandished a pair of soft, furry pink handcuffs. He immediately spluttered and took a step back, desperately seeking a way out of this situation. This was getting out of hand. And the handcuffs were making him imagine something that he _shouldn’t_ be thinking about, not when she was standing right in front of him, her hands stretched out before her, almost as though in prayer.

“Are you drunk? Have you been drinking?” he asked, clutching at straws now. He would take any reason, any excuse to get her out of his room. She was slowly eroding his resolve; he knew that if he couldn’t find a reason _soon_ , he might just abandon all thought and give in to her, to the playfulness that shimmered in her eyes. And that would be a mistake. Nothing good would possibly come out of this.

She was beautiful. He couldn’t deny that, but these awful feelings that bloomed in his chest made him miserable. Sleeping with Miku would reduce him to nothing more than a name to be scratched off her list. Yet another mark to add to her body count. At least now, he could still dream about her without the harsh chill of reality seeping into his fantasies.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, “but not enough to make me lose common sense. Too bad for you, Len,” she added, winking at him. He despised how that wink made his heart hurt. Not wanting her to observe the effect she had on him, he turned his head away, but she simply drew closer and then he felt her fingers brush gently against his cheek. Her hands were so soft and warm, and she smelled like rosewater – a scent that had sunk into every nook and cranny of his apartment, so strong that he was practically drowning in her.

“Kiss me?” she asked, her voice sweet, and it was so hard to breathe. Maybe just once…he swallowed, glancing at her, and she was staring up at him, no smile on her face. When was the last time she had looked this serious? He reached for her, and his stomach lurched.

She didn’t taste like honey, like what he envisioned in past dreams and fantasies, when he woke up still gasping, his sheets drenched with desire. Her lips were soft, just like the rest of her, and so tender. For once he couldn’t think – he would probably regret this later, but then she was kissing him back and suddenly it no longer felt like a mistake.

Her hands were moving up and down his back, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt. He made no move to stop her, not even when her deft fingers began to unbutton his top. Nor did he try to stop her when the shirt was undone – he allowed her to help him out of it, and there he stood before her with his skin exposed to the cold air. He shuddered and sighed when her fingers traced a delicate line across his bare stomach.

It was Miku who withdrew first, and he saw something resembling lust in her eyes – but did she genuinely want him, or was there another reason that she was doing this? He was unable to give himself over to these feelings entirely, too afraid that she was simply making use of him the same way she did so many others. “Len. I promise this isn’t a game.” She practically read his mind, her hands reaching up to cup his face, and her words were sincere.

He didn’t want to think so much for once. He was tired of thinking. Leaning down, he kissed her again, this time a raw, searching kiss – she moaned quietly into his mouth as his hands dropped onto her hips, the silky nightie a thin barrier between his skin and hers.

Suddenly he heard a _click_ and his eyes flew open as he felt soft fur clinging to his wrists. He looked down and saw that Miku had locked his hands together with the handcuffs, with the chain connecting them dangling behind her. He blinked a few times, surprised, then glared at her, not liking where this was going. “I also promise to take turns,” she whispered.

He gritted his teeth. “Miku, this isn’t funny. What are you trying –” His words were cut off as she knelt, looking innocently up at him as she lowered herself to her knees before him. Her actions sent a shockingly vivid image through his head and he bit his lip, wondering if that was what she had planned – but the anticipation, part fear and part desire, fell apart when she crawled out from beneath his locked arms, that feigned innocence transforming into a wicked smile. “Where are you going? What are you doing? _Miku_!”

She must have guessed what he would think when she knelt. He felt like an idiot now. “I’m preparing for something,” she answered, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. He was perturbed by that, but there was little he could do when he was handcuffed like this.

“Get this stupid thing off me,” he said, holding out his trapped wrists. She shook her head, taking a step closer and kissing him again – this one felt different from the previous time, more passionate, less reserved. He stopped thinking again, backing her towards the bed; she grabbed his arm and pulled him down as she fell back, and then all he could feel was _her_. Her fingers in his hair, her lips whispering his name into the hollow of his throat.

She made him lose all sense of his rules and reasons. She made him forget why he shouldn’t, couldn’t be doing this – why he should never allow her the pleasure of hearing him beg, of hearing any sign of weakness. That was what she wanted, and he _would not_ give it to her. Her slender arms looped around his neck and she called his name. It made him dizzy. The taste of her mouth was branded into his mind, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Her hands roamed down his arms, lingering on his waist, and she pulled back to look up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, lips slightly swollen from their kisses. She had never looked this alluring – again he wondered if he was dreaming. If he was, then he didn’t want to wake up.

Miku was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. That was probably why she could sway men into doing whatever she wanted. He had never intended to be one of those men, but he was afraid he might be after tonight. “Why are you doing this to me?” he asked, meeting her gaze, frowning at her. “Just so you can continue staying here without paying rent?”

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t need to sleep with you for that,” she pointed out. “You claim that you want me to move out, but at the same time you want to keep an eye on me – and we both know that you wouldn’t be happy if I went to live with another guy.”

He hated how she was able to say that with so much confidence. He could say that she was sorely mistaken and she could do whatever the hell she wanted, but that would make him a liar. While he was struggling to come up with an appropriate response, Miku abruptly reached up and flipped them over, straddling his hips so that he was trapped underneath her.

For a moment, he had no idea how to respond. Her hands slid down his torso towards his belt, and when he realised what she had in mind, he suddenly remembered how to speak again. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” he warned, tempted to push her off him – Miku met his gaze, and when he saw the look in her eyes he froze, his breath catching. She looked almost pleading.

“I want this. I want you.” Her hand hovered over his belt, but she didn’t touch it. Instead, she watched him, and he realised she was waiting for him to say okay. “ _Please_.” That word, said in a soft, breathy whisper, was what broke him – he nodded and she quickly undid his belt, and he hissed at the sensation of her fingers wrapping around him.

When she moved her hand, his mind blanked out. The only thing he could think about was how good she felt, how her murmurs seemed to wrap lovingly around him and drag him deeper into the haze her touch invoked. When her thumb ran gently over the tip, he had to bite down on his palm to prevent himself from groaning.

“No, don’t keep quiet,” Miku protested, trying to pull his hand away from his face – he was stronger than her but he acquiesced, taking shallow breaths as he tried to stay grounded. “You don’t have to hide anything around me.” He knew she was lying because the moment he let down his guard she would weasel her way into his heart and rob him blind, but right now he couldn’t find the words to express his thoughts. Her grip on him tightened and he gasped, uncaring of how embarrassing the situation was. She felt so _good_. It wasn’t fair.

When she leant down to kiss him on the lips, he moaned, part of him wishing he could just give in and lose himself within her. But he couldn’t, not with her straddling him like this, not with his suspicion still weighing upon him. Her fingers squeezed him gently and he hissed – it had been so long, _too_ long, and when she was being so soft, when he was being touched by the girl he wanted so desperately – it didn’t take long before everything went blank and he shuddered, his bound wrists reaching for her. His fingers brushed against her cheek.

When his vision cleared, Miku was climbing off him, and unbidden her name slipped from his lips, making her pause. “Where are you going?” he asked. He sounded strangely weak.

She glanced back at him and smiled, waving a hand. It was covered in sticky whiteness, and he had to look away, feeling almost ashamed. He heard her enter his adjoining bathroom, heard the sound of water running, and he wondered if everything was over just like that – not that he was disappointed. He wasn’t. But the thought of spending the rest of the night alone, trapped in this fantasy she had woven for him…he swallowed, closing his eyes.

Miku was spending an awfully long time in the bathroom; the more he waited, the heavier his chest seemed to become, and after a while he got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom, determined to find out what she was doing.

“Oh, I was just cleaning up.” Miku looked up when he nudged the door open, showing him her hands – he was struck by how tender she looked, her lips a rosy pink, her bright green eyes filled with affection. “You have to be patient with me, you know. I get tired easily.”

“Did that count as a turn?” he answered as he held his hands out before him. She blinked up at him, looking startled for a moment, then the smile was back on her face and she was shaking her head, wiping her hands dry on a nearby towel.

“You’ll find out what a _turn_ is,” she promised, her tone light and playful – he didn’t resist as she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him out of the bathroom and back to the bed. He didn’t resist when she climbed on top of him, pushing her long hair away from her face, her soft thighs wrapped around his waist. He didn’t resist when her lips gently ran over his sensitive neck, making him shiver, her nails digging tiny crescents into his skin.

He didn’t resist, but he wanted to. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to rip that nightie off her and run his hands all over her slender body – he wanted to flip them so he was the one in control. So that he could make her moan his name in her sinfully sweet voice. He wanted her to fall apart, her arms wrapped around his neck as she begged him to stop, begged him for mercy. He wanted to challenge the spirit in her eyes. He wanted her to be his.

As though she could sense his yearning, her hands reached up, lingering on the hem of her nightie, lifting it slowly to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. His throat went dry. She was so perfect that he could hardly believe she was _real_. His fingers twitched.

She took off the nightie and tossed it on the floor, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan – she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts were pretty much in his face now, so close and yet so far. “I’ve been a bad girl, Len,” she murmured. “Don’t you think I should be punished?”

He almost choked. “But I’m the one locked up here,” he answered, hoping she might change her mind about handcuffing him. She laughed and placed a slender finger on his lips – he whipped his head away, frustrated. She was always like this. Selfish, demanding, insistent on getting her way. “Why do you have to be so cruel?” he asked, unable to help himself.

She sighed. He could feel her lace panties against his stomach. “Life is a zero-sum game. In this case, you could either give…or you could take. And we all know what happens to those who keep giving.” As she spoke, she picked up a satin ribbon that he only now realised was on his bedside table, and a small smile curved her lips. He didn’t like where this was going.

Just like he suspected, she wound the ribbon around his eyes, and everything went dark – he didn’t struggle but only because she was still sitting on him, and he didn’t want to throw her off. He felt her shift, and he flinched when he realised that she was now removing her underwear. “Miku…” Her name left his lips like a prayer, and he hated himself for that.

He was almost ready to break. He _wanted_ her, even if that meant the loss of his pride, of his reputation and everything else he held dear. He wanted to live out his desires; he wanted to experience this reality for just one precious, fleeting moment, to know for sure whether it would be able to live up to his dreams.

“Patience,” she whispered, and when she settled on top of him she was entirely bare. That damned ribbon stayed in place around his face, and he hissed, forced to imagine what she might look like now, her eyes closed in bliss, her hair cascading down her back. She was so wet, and it was a special, exquisite kind of torture to feel her grinding her hips against him, teasing and relentless. Her lips met his and he kissed her back, hungry and desperate – he hoped she might find some shred of mercy in that cold, unfeeling heart of hers, but instead, she bit gently down on his bottom lip and then sat back upright. He felt empty in her wake.

If only he wasn’t handcuffed and blindfolded. Len exhaled, hating this feeling of uncertainty, hating how lost and helpless he felt. “Relax,” she said, and one finger ran down the curve of his jaw, delicately stroking his throat – instinctively, he swallowed.

Then she sighed and the next thing he knew, she was adjusting her position and then she sank on him, taking him inside her – his eyes widened as a curse fell from his lips, a muttered oath that barely encapsulated the sensation that surged forth within him. She was warm and tight and so soft, so loving that he almost couldn’t believe it was her.

Miku was no virgin, and neither was he, though she was undoubtedly more experienced. Still, it was the first time he had been with her and it felt like everything he had imagined and _more_. “Len,” she hissed, his name breathless, and his groin twitched in response. “I didn’t – _ah_ , you feel so good…” Her voice trailed away as she began to slowly ride him, her hips grinding into his as she took her time, mewls and whimpers escaping her lips.

He just tried to control his breathing, not daring to respond to her calls. Was this wrong? Should he protest at the way she had robbed him of all agency? But he didn’t want to. If anything he _wanted_ this, wanted to watch as she bowed her head, her long bangs falling forward to conceal her eyes, her lips parting readily for him. Her pace was glacial, and he knew she intended to tease him – his hips bucked as she slid down the full length of his shaft, and she gasped, reaching forward to place her hands on his shoulders.

“That’s cheating,” she chided him. “Do that again and I’ll stop moving.” And he was helpless against her, helpless against the gentle, mesmerising lilt of her voice.

She knew what she was doing. She squirmed on top of him and he trembled, losing himself in the warmth of her body, how she felt like silk and tenderness and maybe even love, how she murmured his name in a voice that sounded like heartbreak. All he wanted was for her to take him, but she was slow and she was sin and when he tried to speak, his voice fluttered in his throat.

“Could you at least remove this blindfold?” He sounded like he was pleading, but he had given up on caring by this point.

“Do you think you deserve it?” She seemed serious, and he nodded, his movements jerky, almost panicked. She laughed, and it was a gentle sound that grated on his ears – cold and delicate, the sharp tip of a knife tracing red into his skin. “If you are so insistent, then…”

Moments later the ribbon came off and he narrowed his eyes against the sudden flood of light. His vision quickly adjusted, and the next thing he saw was Miku, her eyes closed, the strip of satin wound loosely around her fingers. His lungs ached when he inhaled.

“Please move.” At least he didn’t sound so needy this time.

“I’ll do what I want,” she answered, wriggling her hips again – he knew she wouldn’t be kind enough to grant his wish a second time, and he couldn’t stand the way she could so easily extract a moan from him, the sound of his voice echoing throughout his bedroom.

She kissed him, swallowing his whimpers with her mouth, and then she slowly began to ride him, her movements strong and certain – it took everything he had not to buck his hips into her. He knew it was pointless to struggle, but still, he strained against the handcuffs, hoping that the chafing would distract him from giving in entirely to her. He never once imagined they would sleep together, but even so, this wasn’t how he hoped things would pan out.

Miku was pure longing and desire and punishment rolled into sweet, exquisite torture, the kind of experience that tore him down and built him back up in her image. He didn’t even know if he was enjoying himself or not; there was little on his mind besides his misery and the pleasure she forced upon him, waves of _sensation_ that she took as easily as she gave.

He had almost no control, but he was at least determined not to finish before her. That was the one thing he could focus on, the only shred of pride he could perhaps salvage from this whole mess. But as though she knew what he was thinking, she began to moan his name in that indulgent voice of hers, speeding up so that she practically slamming her hips down on him, and his already battered resolve began to fray.

She felt so good. So much better than he ever imagined she would. His hands reached for her, still bound together, and he hissed in frustration when he could just barely touch her, the chain severely restricting his range of motion. But then she leant down towards him and pressed her soft cheek into one of his hands, his name a fluttering sigh on her lips – suddenly his entire body spasmed and he could no longer tolerate the rush of pleasure that flooded him.

With a cry of exasperation, he spilt himself within her, his body shuddering as his mind momentarily went blank – she carried on milking him, yanking breathless gasps out of his lungs as she chased her high. It almost hurt, the way she bounced on his sensitive length, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the borderline _pain_ now; instead, he watched her face as her eyelashes trembled and her lips parted, her cheeks flushed a light pink.

Finally, he felt her quivering around him, and then she fell forward and her fingers sought his shoulders, clutching tightly as she came undone, a soft cry escaping her lips – he just watched her, drinking in the sight of her falling apart because of him. He knew he hadn’t done much, that she had essentially tied him up and used him as a personal sex toy, but the leftover fragments of his pride latched onto any scraps it could uncover, and the way his name rolled off her tongue as she held onto him was a good enough consolation.

She was so unfair, wringing every last drop of her pleasure out of him while the only thing he received in return was this feeling of hollowness. This wasn’t what he wanted. But then, what _did_ he want? Miku leant her head against his chest, her eyes closed, and he stared at the ceiling – her hair tickled him, and the longer he waited for her to recover the more annoyed he became, festering in his feelings of resentment.

After a few moments, she reached up and undid his handcuffs. They fell apart, and at long last his wrists were free – he rotated them experimentally, relieved that he could move his hands again. Then he grabbed her arms and pulled her towards him, flipping them so that now she was trapped underneath him, her green eyes wide with surprise.

“You thought that was enough to tire me, didn't you?” He leant down so that they were nose-to-nose, their gazes clashing. “Did you know how _annoying_ you were, forcing me down like that? No, you probably didn’t, because you’re the most selfish person I’ve ever seen.”

She just grinned at him, a familiar twinkle in her eyes, and he hated how that sunny smile never failed to make his stomach flip. She had always been able to look right through him, to ignore the caustic words that spilt out of his mouth and read the true intentions that simmered within his eyes, and he couldn’t stand that about her. He couldn’t stand the idea that he couldn’t lie to her, this girl who misled with her words and her body, concealing her true self from everyone with seductive lies and empty promises of fulfilment.

“Fuck.” That was the last thing he whispered before he leant down and pressed his lips to her neck, his hands roaming across her, taking his time to explore what he couldn’t earlier. Her mewls and whimpers were doubly satisfying after all the waiting he had been forced to endure; she moaned his name, and this time he relished the sound of it, hearing her say it over and over again like a broken mantra while his lips teased her delicate skin.

He’d like to believe that he was mature enough to not treat this as revenge, but deep down he knew that it _was_. “Don’t you dare try to pull something like that on me again.”

“And what if I do?” she challenged, her voice filled with breathless delight – she goaded him because she trusted that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, and he wished he could find a way to wipe all that self-confidence off her face.

“I’ll kick you out of my house then since you’re not paying me any rent.” She wasn’t going to fall for that, but she pretended to consider anyway, her eyes glimmering with amusement.

“Paying you with sex isn’t enough?” Her words dripped with mock innocence, and he drew a sharp breath, averting his gaze so that she wouldn’t see his expression. He figured she was just teasing him, but the implication of her words, the way her offer sent an intense wave of desire surging through him – God, how low he had sunk.

“I really like you, you know.” When she next spoke her voice was soft, almost tender. He was startled to hear what sounded like sincerity in her words. “You’re the only person who won’t tolerate my crap, and I respect you for that. No one else cares about me the way you do.”

There was a tinge of sadness in that last sentence, and he understood what she was talking about – her absent mother, her imprisoned father, her unhappy childhood. Miku never did have the warm family he did; out of pity, he had spent time with her, though that attention eventually turned into infatuation, then later developed into something more.

“I love you.” The words tumbled out before his brain could process them, and he stiffened, suddenly terrified of the possible repercussions.

But she simply smiled at him, all traces of sadness gone from her face. “I love you too,” she answered, so readily that for a moment all he could do was blink, started by how easily she accepted his confession. But then her words sank in and instinctively he leant down to kiss her – she looped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with fervent intensity.

As she cried out for him, her fingers twining in his hair, he thought about how he wouldn’t mind waking up to her every morning, how he would gladly make love to her all night so long as that was what she wished for. She trembled at his touch, and he thought about how he could get used to this, get used to the feeling of her delicate warmth wrapped all around him.

Perhaps allowing her to stay in his apartment hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is basically a rewrite of one of my older two-shots, but i'm happy with how this turned out. will post miku's pov for the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hang on – so you’re staying with Len right now?” Rei blinked, his golden eyes filled with surprise. Miku nodded, taking a sip of her vanilla milkshake.

Rei had called her dumb for drinking a milkshake in the dead of winter. But she thought that cold treats tasted better in cold weather. “And I didn’t even have to blackmail him!” she exclaimed. Granted, she _did_ say that she would stay with Rei instead if he didn’t take her in, but that didn’t count. That was an objective statement, not a threat.

Pushing her milkshake away from her, she stretched in her seat, rolling her shoulders – she could sense at least three pairs of eyes upon her, but she ignored them. She was too used to receiving attention from men, and it had lost its excitement a long time ago.

Rei sighed. “I wonder how long he’ll put up with you,” he mused. The raven-haired man had grown up together with Miku and Len, and they were still pretty close – Miku always made sure to meet up with Rei whenever their schedules matched.

Len, on the other hand, was so focused on his research that he hardly left his apartment for anything besides work. She wondered when was the last time these two men had spoken face-to-face. Maybe she should organise a little get-together soon. “Please don’t give him a difficult time, Miku,” Rei added. “The last time you pissed him off, he refused to talk to anyone for a month.”

She waved away his concerns. “I know what to do.” Leaning forward, she captured his golden gaze and her lips crooked up into a knowing smile. “Enough about me. How is Rin doing?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. Rei just blinked at her.

“Rin? She’s fine, I guess. She asked me yesterday about you and Len. She’s in town right now, actually.” He beamed at her, and Miku almost rolled her eyes. If there was one thing she could highlight about Kagene Rei, it was how ridiculously _dense_ he was. Rin’s feelings for him were painfully obvious, but he had yet to figure out the identity of her crush.

“Is she staying at your place?” she asked – if she knew Rin, she probably would have asked him if she could crash while she was in town. Rei nodded, and Miku smiled – Rin was probably as sneaky as Miku, though she lacked her guts. If Miku had been in Rin’s position, she’d be doing a lot more than just staying over…

“You’re not going back to Len’s apartment? It’s getting kind of late.” Rei glanced at his watch, but she shook her head – now that she knew Rin was in town, she wanted to catch up with her too. Plus, how could she _not_ inform Miku the moment she arrived? Rude.

She told Rei about her change in plans, and he made a face. “I don’t mind you visiting, but I’d be worried if you left my place at this kind of timing. Why don’t you stay the night? Rin is already taking my spare room, but you can have my bed…I can sleep on the sofa.”

Rei was always the perfect gentleman. She agreed, thinking about swapping accommodations with Rin later – she would probably want Rei’s bed a lot more than Miku did.

* * *

“I don’t know, Miku. I know I’m his cousin, but even I sometimes think Len might be asexual.” Rin shrugged, sitting cross-legged on Rei’s bed, hugging his pillow to her chest.

Miku snorted. “Believe me, he isn’t.” She thought back to the look of surprise on his face the other day when he saw her walking out of her room in a thin white tank and pyjama shorts. She didn’t miss the way he averted his gaze, a tinge of pink blossoming on his cheeks.

Rin just shook her head, and Miku made a face at her. She was a year younger than the rest of them, and she lived in the neighbouring town. The first time Miku met Rin was when she was twelve – Len’s extended family had visited to celebrate his birthday, and she was utterly fascinated by the girl who so greatly resembled her cousin. The two of them struck up a fast friendship, though Len often accused Miku of being a terrible influence.

“It would be nice to have just a tiny shred of your confidence,” Rin mumbled, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling. Miku reached over to tug Rei’s pillow out of her grip.

“Once you figure out how to stop caring about other people’s opinions, then you’re on your way,” she answered. “Or even better – understand how to predict their feelings so that _you_ control what they think of you!” She fluffed up the pillow, leaning against it with a sigh.

Rin frowned. “It’s not that easy to manipulate people…well, it isn’t for me.”

“All you need is some practice,” she said. “And you’ll have them wrapped around your pinkie in no time. Though that’s not always the nicest thing to do…”

“You don’t say.” Rin raised an eyebrow. “Why can’t you just tell Len how you feel about him? It’s not like you’re shy. What’s stopping you from being upfront about your feelings?”

She paused, wondering how she ought to reply. It was something she had pondered over for a while. Rin made a fair point, but she knew better than to just walk up to Len and tell him she cared about him. He was too suspicious, too used to her antics to believe her.

“He isn’t a game,” she finally answered. “And I don’t want him to think that I’m just playing around. If I’m my usual self around him, he’s not going to believe that I’m telling the truth.” She fiddled with her hair, twirling locks of it around her fingers. “Plus, he’s always so stoic. Wouldn’t it be fun to see him lose control for once?” she added, stifling a giggle.

That earned her a sigh. “Good luck with that. I don’t know what you _can_ do to make Len snap. He holds himself to such unforgiving standards.” Rin leant against the headboard. “Kind of makes me wonder what you see in him. You two are so different.” She narrowed her eyes at Miku, and she simply smiled back at Rin, choosing not to reply.

She thought wistfully about how Rin’s eyes were the same shade of vivid cerulean as Len’s – the cousins were so similar, and yet so different. Rin’s gaze was open and expressive, while Len was a closed book. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered what emotions were.

“Not going to make a move on Rei?” She wiggled her eyebrows, and as if on cue, Rin turned a vivid shade of red. She threw a bolster at her, which Miku avoided with ease before she dashed out of the room to escape the flustered girl. When she reached the guest room, she locked the door, catching her breath with a grin on her face. Rin was too easy to tease.

But now that she was alone, her thoughts drifted back to Len. She knew she had to do something soon. They had spent long enough dancing around each other, and she was tired of the status quo. She wasn’t blind; the way he treated her was different from other girls, and she had seen the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

His feelings were obvious to anyone with half a brain cell. But convincing him to take action would be much harder than sussing out his emotions – Len was too focused on his work to spend time on anything else. She’d have to find some way to distract him.

She hummed, pleased with the plan she had concocted – since she would come into some money tomorrow, she could invest in some lingerie. She was certain that even Len wouldn’t be immune to the sight of her in lacy underwear. He might be distant, but he was still a man, and even _he_ couldn’t possibly have that much self-restraint.

* * *

Miku yawned, turning over and nuzzling into his side. Len didn’t react, so she opened her eyes and peeked at him – he was asleep, his long lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. She sat up, staring at his face. He seemed so relaxed, so peaceful while at rest.

She reached for him, her fingers hovering over his skin, just barely touching. She traced his delicate features through thin air, wondering if he would regret what they had done. Then she shook her head – there was no need to wonder. This was Kagamine Len. There was no question whatsoever that he regretted his decision. She’d even bet money on it.

But that was why she was still here. To reassure him that everything was fine; that she hadn't initiated sex with him just to scratch some kind of itch.

The memory of last night made her smile. She was still a little sore, but in a _good_ way, and she didn’t have to look in the mirror to see the faint bruises that peppered her neck. The handcuffs were lying on the floor, forgotten, and she briefly thought about putting them away – but then she changed her mind. She had no desire to move at the moment.

She glanced at Len again, wondering if he’d wake up soon. He was usually up earlier than she was, but he was probably exhausted from everything they did last night. She took the chance to study his features – he was such a beautiful man, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how angelic he looked in his sleep.

Len knew that he was good-looking, but he wasn’t the kind of person to capitalise on that, preferring to be known for other things like his research and his accomplishments. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of her. She would rather make full use of what she’d been given to succeed in life. After all, what was the point of being attractive if she couldn’t leverage on her beauty? She must have been born this way for a reason.

As she watched his sleeping face, she felt the sudden urge to kiss him. Carefully leaning over, she closed her eyes and gently pressed her lips to his, her fingers gliding over his silky hair – his lips were soft, a little swollen, and she was sure hers looked the same way. Her mouth tingled, still sensitive, and she eyed him for any signs of wakefulness. He groaned in his sleep before he turned towards her and tugged weakly on her wrist.

She allowed him to pull her into his embrace, thinking about how nice it would be if she could open her eyes to mornings like this every day. Though she didn’t want to admit it, she was still nervous about how Len might react when he finally woke up – last night, he had admitted that he loved her, but would he still acknowledge that? Would he even remember? Or would he claim he had said that under duress, and the words that slipped out of his mouth didn’t mean a thing?

It could go either way, and unknowns like these made her worry. Miku was usually an optimistic person, relying on her instincts to decide whether or not something would turn out well, but when it came to Len this wasn’t a risk she wanted to take. She would miss him if he was unwilling to stay with her, even if she didn’t want to admit this, even if she was far too proud to tell him again that she loved him. When had she started to develop these feelings?

When they were little, no one would have thought that they might one day end up like this, and it was understandable why. Their relationship was almost that of caretaker and child – he was tolerant and sarcastic, the responsible one who kept her in check, while she liked to think up of ways to test his limits, constantly doing her best to get them in trouble.

She remembered the first time she managed to pickpocket him…then the second, the third, the fourth, so on and so forth. He never learnt his lesson when it came to her.

In truth, she didn’t know why Len was so interested in her personal affairs. Maybe because he knew she had no family to speak of. He’d known it since the day he passed by her front yard and saw her playing alone in the garden, wearing a dishevelled dress, her long hair streaked with dirt. He was lucky he saw her then; as a child, she had hardly left the house, always afraid that the police would take her the same way they had taken her father.

She vividly recalled those feelings of isolation. Of not knowing who to turn to, or where she could go. Her father loved her, but he was hardly around, spending most of his time on the run or in prison. Her mother sent someone to visit every couple of days to ensure that she was still alive and that her basic needs were being fulfilled, but the woman had never wanted to give birth to her and that was the full extent of her parental responsibility.

He called to her through the bars of the gate and asked her who she was, and why she was alone. It was strange, knowing that someone out there took interest in what she was doing – she felt happy to receive any kind of attention, and when he left she felt her heart sink a little in her chest. But he returned, and he brought his parents with him.

They talked about calling child protection services but she had refused, having assumed that it would be the same as being taken by the police. Her father had taught her to be wary of all organisations, no matter who they were, and she didn’t like the idea of being visited by people she wasn’t familiar with. In the end, his parents suggested that she follow them – at first, she was hesitant, but then Len smiled at her and in her loneliness, she became convinced that he and his family could be trusted. It turned out that they lived just a few blocks away from her, and his family made her promise that she’d come to them whenever she needed help.

She didn’t want to leave her house just in case her father returned someday, but she was at Len’s place so often that she might as well have lived there. On the day she turned thirteen, her mother made a personal visit to her old house – Miku still didn’t know why, her mother was a capricious woman and particularly difficult to understand – and suddenly decided to assume some responsibility for her daughter’s welfare. The day after, she moved away to stay with her mother.

Her mother was a wealthy woman who obtained most of her money through swindling men. She taught her everything she knew, often telling her that men foolish enough to trust her honeyed words deserved to be robbed blind, and Miku grew to believe her. They were a mother-daughter pair, working together to fund their lavish lifestyles, and Miku made sure to avoid Len every time she saw him because part of her felt ashamed for him to see her like this.

But he knew. And once he tried to convince her to stop, but she was in front of her mother then and, in a desperate bid to maintain the woman's affections, she laughed and brushed him off, pretending she didn’t know who he was. After that Len never spoke to her unless there was a real reason to do so, and they lost touch until she returned from university, after her mother decided Miku no longer needed her guidance and could survive without her help.

It wasn’t much of a childhood, and she was aware of that. But that was all she knew, and she couldn’t quite understand any other lifestyle. Len’s parents were the closest she ever got to the warmth of a family – they treated her like their daughter, and she was grateful to them for looking after her. If Len hadn’t found her back then…where would she be now?

As she continued reminiscing, Len let out a quiet groan, his eyelids beginning to flutter. She immediately closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, and she wondered how he would react when he woke up and saw her lying beside him.

“Ah…” His voice was groggy with sleep. “Miku,” he whispered, and she felt his fingers brush her bangs away from her face. “I know you’re awake,” he added, and this time he sounded more like his usual self. She let out a sigh, taking her time to open her eyes.

“So, how did you feel about last night? Wasn’t it fun?” she teased, not wanting to deal with her nerves. It was so much easier to retreat behind her usual façade. Doing so made her feel like she had some control over the situation, even if she didn’t. She could see he was affected by her flirtatiousness even though he tried not to let it show – he cleared his throat and narrowed his gorgeous blue eyes, and she felt her heart hammering away in her chest.

“That is not happening again. You came into my room and forced me to sleep with you. I don’t think it was entirely consensual.” She pouted, wondering how to handle such a delicate subject – he wasn’t wrong, and she did feel _guilty_ about it, but honestly, she would have stopped if he told her to. Yet he hadn’t. Where did that leave them, then?

Sometimes he could be difficult to read, and this was one of those times. She knew that anything she tried to say would be deflected or rebutted, so instead, she leant forward to press her mouth to his – he resisted for a while, his lips pressed together, but she turned her head and peppered his neck with fleeting kisses before returning to his mouth.

He relaxed a little, and she whimpered, nipping playfully at him. His hands were already slipping around her waist, and when she caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged, he finally relented, one hand shifting up to hold the back of her head against him as he poured himself into their kiss, her name falling from his lips in loving, fervent whispers.

It was fun to be on top. It was fun to feel like she could influence him, the one person in the world who was able to resist anything she did. When she came back to town, free of her mother, she had tried to tempt him, had dangled promises of pleasure and completion before him, and never once did he take her bait. He continuously rejected her advances despite how obvious his attraction was, and she couldn’t help but be intrigued by his stubbornness.

Maybe she had fallen in love with him the very moment he reached for her, the first person in the world who noticed her presence, who was there for her whenever she needed him. It was such a cliché, and she knew that – it was so much easier to pretend she wasn’t serious, that she’d pull away from him the moment he tried to return her affections. But she was afraid of what would happen if she pushed too far. If he truly did fall in love with her.

But then one day she grew tired of running away from reality. Tired of assuming that there was no way someone like her could ever find happiness. It wasn’t like her to give up without trying.

She withdrew from him, wondering how he would respond. He blinked up at her, vulnerability shimmering in his eyes for one short-lived, fragile second before the walls slammed down and he was back to glaring at her, suspicion in his gaze. “Stop doing that to me,” he snapped, his hands on her shoulders, holding her up – but she noted that he didn’t try to push her away.

“What if I don’t want to stop?” she asked, kneeling over him with a teasing smile on her face. He stared at her, one hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and she wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing. “What are you going to do, kick me out?”

Irritation clouded his blue eyes. “Stop using that against me,” he grumbled. “And anyway, I’m not talking about that for now. My main point is that you can’t just _barge_ into my room and do whatever the fuck you want. I’m going to keep my door locked from now on.”

She had no idea if he was being serious or not. It was hard to tell with Len sometimes. “But what if I’m dying and I need your help?” she protested, falling away and collapsing beside him. “If I can’t get into your room, you’ll have my _death_ on your conscience, you know.”

“You could always call me. You have a phone – use it.” He glanced away, and she was pretty sure he had almost rolled his eyes. She huffed, trying to hide the way her stomach churned – she was unused to not having the upper hand in any situation. Usually, she was confident that men would give in and do anything she wanted. But he wasn’t like the others.

She wasn’t used to feeling like she was…less than desirable. She wasn’t used to being rejected.

“You’re no fun, Len.” He met her gaze, looking like his usual uninterested self, but she could see a tiny hint of a smirk on his face, and her breath hitched. That damned smirk. She had only seen him smirk five times throughout all the years she knew him, but it never failed to make her heartbeat quicken. It was an arrogant smile, knowing and assured, but there was something undeniably attractive about it.

“I’m not paid to be fun. I’m paid to be a researcher. Sometimes a teaching assistant.” He sat up, the blanket sliding down his bare chest – her eyes followed its movement, and abruptly she remembered what he looked like underneath his casual tees and slim-cut jeans – Len was the kind of person who relieved stress by working out, and last night it had shown.

She bit her lip at the memory, and she noticed the way he glanced at her mouth for just a second before looking away. It was satisfying to know that he wasn’t as unaffected by her as he pretended to be. “You know,” she changed the topic, “I think I remember you saying something rather strange last night. Something about you being in love with me?”

“I think you misheard.” He didn’t even bat an eyelid. She watched him, and he stared back, a placid smile on his face. “Last night was pretty messy. You could have heard anything.”

She wanted to call him out on his lie, but then she decided it might be more interesting to drag this out a while longer – she sat up as well, folding her arms across her chest, and his gaze dipped momentarily below her neck before flicking back up. “Are you calling me a liar, then?” she wondered, leaning towards him. He didn't move, his gaze fixed on her.

What would she have to do to get him to react? She inched closer, and still, there was no response – but she could sense the tension in the air, sense his sudden readiness to bolt. She carefully placed her hand on top of his, hoping he wouldn’t push her away. “Len?” she breathed, her voice shaky. Her grip on his hand tightened, and hesitantly she glanced up –

Her eyes widened when she felt his lips on hers again, a kiss that reminded her of last night with its desperation, with its shocking intensity – he held her against him with his free hand, and she moaned, unable to prevent the sound from leaving her mouth. He leant in, pushing her beneath him, wisps of his hair framing his face in a way that made him look angelic.

She wrapped her arms around him, clutching onto him like she was drowning and he was the only solid thing in sight – she could feel his breath on her skin, inhale the familiar scent of his cologne, and she thought about how he was the only person in the world who could make her tremble this way. How she felt so _much_ , how she would never dare to admit this because he’d no doubt be frightened away. Lord knew how much she deserved it.

His free hand slid down her shoulders, pausing at her breasts. His fingers brushed against her nipples and she shuddered, her breath catching. He smiled against her mouth. “You know what, maybe I’ll be truthful about last night if you’re willing to be a good girl for once.”

That husky murmur filled her with anticipation, and she bit her lip, a gesture that was half-practice and half-instinct. His eyes darkened as he watched her, and she could say that she’d never seen anything else more arousing. “What would you like me to do?”

Len’s gaze flicked towards the handcuffs on the floor, and she groaned. “Wait. Not that. You can’t do that to me,” she protested. She was willing to do many things, but giving up control was not something that came naturally to her. “That’s not fun at all!”

“You didn’t seem to care when you did that to me,” he pointed out, leaning down to pick up the handcuffs – she tried to resist when he snapped them around her wrists, but truthfully she didn’t struggle as much as she could have. She wanted to know what he might be like when he was taking the lead. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be submissive for once.

He leant back to survey his handiwork, then suddenly smiled and held up a finger. “I forgot one more thing,” he added, reaching for the satin ribbon at the foot of the bed. She froze at the suggestion, mild panic seizing her – that hadn’t been part of the plan. But her curiosity overrode her instinct to struggle, and wordlessly she allowed him to blindfold her – suddenly, the world turned dark and she couldn’t see a thing.

What she lost in sight though, she made up for with her remaining senses. Everything else seemed clearer, sharper. She could hear her panicked breathing, and she gasped when he ran his fingers across her torso, his touch gentle, delicate.

She wondered what he looked like now, watching her with her wrists bound, her eyes blind – she was completely vulnerable, and a thrill ran through her at the thought. She couldn’t deny there was something exciting about being at his mercy. Suddenly, she felt his hands on her breasts, his fingers lightly pinching her nipples, and she jerked into his touch.

He laughed, the sound low and throaty – there was a familiar ache between her thighs, and she clamped them together, slightly embarrassed by how quickly she had gotten wet. She hoped he didn’t notice – it was too soon, and it almost felt like she had lost, somehow.

“Beg me to take you,” he murmured. “Because if we sleep together again, this time I want it to be on _my_ terms.” His fingers were then replaced by his warm tongue and his name tore its way past her lips, a breathless gasp. It felt so good – _he_ felt so good. Despite the intensity of his words, he was gentle with her, so loving and tender that she could cry.

His fingers played with her other nipple, knowing exactly how to touch. It was only their second time together but already he seemed so familiar with her body, knowing precisely where to linger, where to tease so that her body sang for him, caving in to the pleasure he granted. She knew he wasn’t inexperienced, but surely _this_ was too much. He was a cruel lover, unfair and unforgiving, and even when she begged him to relent, he pressed on.

He was so tender that it hurt. Her mind blanked out, lost in the haze he dragged her into – for a while all she could think about was him. His smile and his touch and the way his bright blue eyes would watch her from afar, desire concealed deep within their depths. He pretended that he couldn’t stand the sight of her, but he could never trick her. His casualness, his words of congratulations whenever she mentioned she had met someone new – they were all too forced to be genuine. His displeasure was the main reason she had stopped dating.

“Stop playing with me,” she gasped when Len’s mouth moved from her chest to her throat, his teeth pressing lightly into her sensitive skin. “You…you shouldn’t toy with your food.”

“Hm? That’s rich, coming from you.” She could feel his voice vibrating against her, and she shivered, closing her eyes behind the blindfold. “You’re a real inconvenience, you know? As if it’s not enough to give you what you want – now you want to make further demands?”

“If I’m so inconvenient, then why don’t you just let me move out?” she retorted, letting out a yelp when his teeth sank into her, a nip with enough force to serve as a warning.

“You’d steal everything you could get your hands on if you lived with someone else. I know what you’re like.” His tongue ran over the indentations he left behind, warm and soothing.

“There’s always Rei. Not like…not like he’d mind.” She was finding it increasingly difficult to string together a coherent sentence. “And Rei – Rei is…a good friend,” she panted.

She was expecting him to give her some kind of ridiculous answer because there was no real reason that she couldn’t stay with Rei, but instead, she felt his mouth against hers. It was a demanding, insistent kiss, almost angry – she moaned as he forced his way past her lips, and her toes curled as sudden, overwhelming desire coursed through her. It was too early in the morning for this kind of rough play, but she didn’t mind. Not if it was him.

“Sometimes I wish we’d never met,” he whispered, pulling away from her. She was gasping from the force of his kiss, her breath fluttering in her lungs. “What’s the point of asking all these questions? You already know the answer, don’t you?” And for a fleeting moment, he sounded almost _hurt_ , almost afraid, and she yearned to hold him close to her.

Len stared down at Miku, whose cheeks were tinged pink – with desire? With shame? With some other emotion that he couldn’t identify? He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to know either. He was always second-guessing himself when it came to her, and he was tired.

What had he gotten himself into this time? He should have just left the room when he had the option to. But then she came to him with those soft eyes filled with love – likely nothing more than an act, yet how could he resist? – and her slender hand upon his and suddenly, he forgot who he was and the things he told himself after last night. He just wanted to hold her, to touch her, to _love_ her. To keep her in his bed so that she would never leave him.

It was stupid. She had spent the entire night in his room, sleeping next to him. He ought to be desperate to kick her out, but when he saw her in the morning, so gentle and peaceful, he just…couldn’t. He had decided to deny that he ever confessed to her – in hindsight, that was probably a terrible idea – but then she told him she loved him too, and…he hesitated.

It could be real. It could also be a lie. He was used to her contradictions, knew it was almost impossible to extract something concrete from her. But what frightened him was how badly he yearned for her words to be _true_.

He was torn between abandoning her and finishing what he had started – he couldn’t deny there was something particularly alluring about seeing her like this, utterly at his mercy. He could just walk away and she wouldn’t be able to protest, restrained and blindfolded the way she was now. If he had been anyone less stubborn, he would have given in and kissed her senseless and just stayed here the rest of the morning, making love to her until they were both breathless and spent. But he _was_ stubborn, he _was_ suspicious, and he…

Well, he was an idiot. There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t want her, and yet he did – especially after last night, after he discovered how she felt in his arms, heard his name on her lips, her taste lingering in his mouth. Last night, something within him had succumbed; there was no chance he could go back to the way things were before. How could he act like nothing had happened when for one precious night, she had brought to life all his darkest fantasies?

Things would be so much easier if he never developed feelings for anyone. Or if he hadn’t grown to love her. Why did it have to be her when she frustrated him to no end? She was deliciously inviting; she was everything he ever wanted, her slender fingers fisting his hair, her green eyes shimmering with promises of affection. Last night had been a huge mistake.

And yet he stayed. He kissed her again, and she moaned into his mouth, making his chest ache. There was an _I love you_ on the very tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it – he wouldn’t allow himself to make the same mistake twice. “Miku…” Her name was a whisper.

Her head turned in the direction of his voice, and she waited for him to continue. He didn’t say anything else, slipping his hand between her legs instead, gently parting them for him. She didn’t resist, and when he slid his fingers up her thighs, she sighed and he thought he heard her say his name – another swallow. She was sleek and tight and _wet_. For him.

A sudden thought crossed his mind – Miku might be able to tease and lie with her words, and her eyes could easily beguile anyone she wanted, but her body couldn’t trick him. She wanted _him_. She wanted his touch. He suddenly forgot what he had been thinking about.

Miku still couldn’t see, but his hands were gliding across her body, and it felt like torture. “Please –” she began to say, but then she felt his mouth against her and she jerked into him, a soft cry slipping out of her mouth. His hands were gripping her thighs, preventing them from closing, and her fingers clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

He was slow and gentle with her, and she felt so dizzy – she had no idea why he was acting like this, not when he seemed so insistent on punishing her earlier, but it would be too much effort to question him, and so she threw her head back and squirmed, warm tension spreading like liquid fire throughout her entire body. He hummed against her, and she felt the vibrations shoot right through her, making her flinch. It was almost painful.

She could feel the knot within her beginning to unfurl, her lips parted as she chased the high that lingered so tantalisingly out of reach – but then his lips left her and she groaned, flooded with disappointment. He spoke, and something in his voice made her pause. “Miku, tell me this,” he murmured. “Last night, you said that you loved me. Is that true?”

The words sank in and she hesitated, still panting. She didn’t know what to say. It was the truth for sure, but if she told him that…would she lose her sense of control if she admitted something so honest, so vulnerable? She was terrified of giving up her power. From young she was told she couldn’t ever lose the upper hand; falsehoods were her friends, the only real currency in the world, and she could only rely on herself. She did that by hoarding all her secrets, keeping them close to her chest, wearing mask over mask to protect her heart.

“It’s not a game,” she finally answered. She hoped that was enough to satisfy him, but then the blindfold suddenly came off and she blinked, her eyes adjusting to the brightness – he was staring intently at her, his blue eyes questioning, and there was something in his gaze that made her think that she couldn’t lie to him. That she shouldn’t. Not this time.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said. “It’s a simple question with a simple answer. Do you love me?” He left it at that, the words hanging delicately in the air between them. She could hear the longing in his voice, and her heart twisted, afraid of all the possibilities.

The longer she waited, the more he seemed to withdraw. His blue eyes dimmed, becoming guarded once again, and he turned his head away from her – she couldn’t bear to see him looking upset and her lips parted. “I do. I do love you.” The words tumbled out of their own accord and his head shot up, his gaze meeting hers. Surprise shone in his beautiful eyes.

“You do?” He sounded afraid. She nodded, and he leant closer to her, looking almost dazed. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He spoke so quietly that he was barely audible, and she had to strain her ears to catch what he said. His kiss this time felt different – hopeful, soft, with none of the raw ferocity that had possessed him in their previous kisses.

It almost felt like he was pleading with her. There was something unspeakably tender about the way his mouth moved against hers. She closed her eyes, meeting his lips, and moments later she felt the handcuffs come off her wrists.

When he entered her, it was slow and loving, and she wanted to cry at his softness. He had never been so gentle with her before, not like this. “I want you to watch me,” he told her, and her voice died in her throat – she nodded, never once taking her eyes off him.

He thought he had never witnessed anything more sublime. Her hair fanned over his pillow, forming a halo around her face, and she stared up at him, pure love in her eyes. He wished he could tell her that he loved her, but he still couldn’t, not when this was so new, not when he could barely convince himself to believe her. But he didn’t want to deny his feelings, not anymore. If only he could melt into her and have her hold him in her arms forever.

This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t some power play, not like what they shared before. This was slow and sensuous and _beautiful_ and the only thing he wanted was for her to close her eyes and call his name, whisper it into his ear so that her voice would be branded onto his heart.

But she did something better. “I love you, Len,” she gasped, her hands placed on his shoulders, fingers tightening as she shuddered, her climax cresting beautifully throughout her body – she came before him this time, and he forced himself to push through those lovely cries of pleasure, lasting only a few moments longer before he found his release.

It took a moment for him to recover, but when his thoughts came back to him he realised that they had sex _again_. It was different this time, though. And now he was less certain about whether or not he regretted his decision. Miku’s arms trembled, and he pressed his lips to her cheek, his mind still giddy with satisfaction. He wanted to pull her to him and hold her in his arms, bury his face in her hair – but no, he was too proud to do that. He shouldn’t.

Her fingers touched his face, and he blinked. “I can leave now if you want,” she murmured – it was the most understanding thing she had said to him in a long while. But he didn’t want her to go. He grabbed her hand, holding it against him, and she blinked, her expression startled. “Len?” she asked, her voice trembling. He exhaled.

Suddenly he remembered how to speak. “No. Don’t leave me.” It sounded more like a plea than an order, but she didn’t retort – instead, she nodded, her gaze so understanding that it hurt. His grip on her hand tightened for a second, then he let go and sank into the bed, lying beside her. She curled up against his chest, leaning her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her. He was still uncertain, still confused, but the one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want her to leave him. Not now, not anymore.

“I didn’t want you to stay with Rei because I’d get jealous, even though I knew Rei wouldn’t do anything to you,” he mumbled, addressing the question she had asked earlier. There was a pause, then she laughed and he relaxed – this was better. He was used to this. And after everything that happened, he found himself itching for things to go back to normal.

Though he could never forget the look on her face when she told him that she loved him.

“Is that a confession?” she teased, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Her green eyes were as mischievous as always, and the vulnerability she had exposed was once again hidden, but he knew he had seen _her_. He had seen the girl who concealed herself from everyone, too afraid of being hurt to trust or to love – he had seen her and now he wouldn’t let her go.

“No.” She laughed again and pecked him on the cheek, and he closed his eyes. It was finally the weekend, and he could sleep in for a little longer, now that she was by his side.

Miku’s lips curved up, and she knew that right now this was the closest he would come to admitting that he loved her. But she was fine with that. Maybe one day they would be able to talk about their feelings without wanting to run away, but at this very moment, she was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stayed up till 3.30am for this

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/dontenchantme)


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